


The Cruelty of Fate

by tigeressdion



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies), Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End (2007)
Genre: Angst, Canon diversion, Drabble, F/M, Gen, Hurt Elizabeth, Hurt Jack, Hurt No Comfort, Jack's Thoughts, Sad, post- At World's End
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-27
Updated: 2015-06-27
Packaged: 2018-04-06 12:15:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4221396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigeressdion/pseuds/tigeressdion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been more than twenty years since Will Turner was made Captain of the Flying Dutchman. It's been the same amount of time since Captain Jack Sparrow last saw Will Turner. Yet, on those dark evenings when he's perhaps had a bit too much rum, Jack can't help but think of his friends, what could have been for them, and should have.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Cruelty of Fate

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little drabble I felt the need to write. Enjoy!

It's a cruel twist of fate, Jack thinks; when he's in one of his more pensive moods. Cruel indeed, that of the two of them, the one who never wanted anything to do with pirates or the sea was the one who ended up escorting the souls of drowned pirates to the afterlife. Will, Jack thinks, was only ever a pirate out of necessity. He always viewed it as an ugly word. A curse. _A necessary evil._ The phrase makes Jack smile sadly. Will; the blacksmith. Fire and metal, those were his tools. Not water and wood. 

Will had been a man pulled two ways, and it saddens Jack to consider that in the end, he may have taken the wrong path. The son of a pirate, to be sure. The son of one of the best, Jack remembers fondly. But sons are not their fathers and Will never wanted to be a pirate. Not even in one of his most romantic moments. It was he and Lizzie, Jack knows, that brought Will to the sea. Damn boy would do anything for that girl. That had always been certain. 

And now, that noble and honourable Will Turner was bound to the sea for eternity. Aye, cruel indeed. For Will had only one woman in his life, but she he could see but once in a decade. And though she waits for him, it is not patiently. This, Jack knows well. 

For one day, every ten years, the Pirate King hands over her regency to one Captain Jack Sparrow. On that one day, she and her son travel to a clifftop. They are always there in time for sunrise. The legendary green flash is no legend to them; they have seen it more than any other. And when that green flash shoots into the sky, a ship rises from the sea. It flies no colours, and at its prow stands a man, young as ever, but with eyes that always look a little older. 

Jack would like to be able to say that he has been there for one of those legendary meetings, between the alleged Davy Jones and the Pirate King, but he has not. Captain Jack Sparrow has not seen Will Turner in a very long time. Such a long time that lines have worn into his forehead; crow's feet have been imprinted on his eyes; and a few streaks of grey have begun to show in his dreadlocks.

Elizabeth Swann has aged, too. Not as dramatically, perhaps, but she's still young; all accounted for. She cut off her hair; easier to have it short, she says. Around her eyes are lines of grief and laughter. She's more muscle now, too; lithe, lean and sinewy underneath her King's clothing. And the scars, they decorate her skin, each with a tale to tell. Lizzie has collected jewellery and knick-knacks now, too. The piece of lace that she uses as a bandana. Three porcelain beads hanging on a black leather cord around her neck; one blue, one yellow, one red. The tip of an ivory tusk that pierces her ear. 

Of course, Jack thinks, there's that boy of hers, too; William. A good, strong lad. Just past twenty, fine-looking, and a natural sailor. It's hard to tell whose eyes the boy has, but he thinks they hold Lizzie's spirit and burning curiosity. The lines around his mouth when he smiles and laughs though, those are Will's. There's a steadiness to the lad that comes naturally; a curiosity that Lizzie passed on to him; and a sense of honour that Lizzie and Jack recognise, but that he takes for granted. Lizzie also tells Jack that the lad's way of getting into and wriggling out of trouble come from him, and Jack tries not to smile. 

But it is cruel, so very cruel, that Will still must sail the Netherworld. Lizzie, he knows, would be better suited. And although Jack has not seen Will since he left, Jack imagines that Lizzie would deal with it better. 

'Oh well,' she'd say. And she'd shrug and smile, kiss Will and cup his face in her hands. 'Think of my freedom,' she'd tell him. 'Of all the wonderful things I've seen. The legends and myths, far-off lands and fantastic people. Of all the adventures I've had. The lives I've lived.' 

Jack stops his imaginings there; that would be cruel as well. It is cruel, that they are not together. Lizzie bears it well, buries herself in her ruling, focuses herself on her son. Gives him all of her love. But Jack still sees her, in her moments of weakness, when it all becomes too much to carry; or when she thinks no one can see her. 

Elizabeth leans on the bulkwark, arms crossed on the rail and shoulders hunched forwards. Her head is dropped lightly, and her eyes drift from sea to horizon. A smile plays along her lips that belongs in days gone by, to a man all but gone. It is a smile that only returns once in a decade, and it brings to Jack a sense of melancholy that even copious amounts of rum cannot shake. 

Yes, it should have been Lizzie, out of the two of them. The girl with saltwater in her veins; battle tactics in her brain; lies on the tip of her tongue; and adventure in her heart. Captain Elizabeth Swann, Immortal Pirate King of the Seas. 

Jack stops this line of thought, too. It's wrong. _He_ is wrong. It should not have been Lizzie. Elizabeth and Will should have lived out their lives together without Fate having any say. 

If it should have been any of them, it should have been him. Captain Jack Sparrow. The last of a dying breed. A legend whilst he lived, a myth when he died, an immortal hero. 

But fate just doesn't work that way.

**Author's Note:**

> Did you enjoy it? Let me know! Leave a kudos or a comment!  
> Find me on tumblr: no1mothmanfan


End file.
